


Gap

by applecameron



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: BDSM, Dom/sub, Humiliation, Kink, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-02
Updated: 2016-10-02
Packaged: 2018-08-19 02:49:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8186510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/applecameron/pseuds/applecameron
Summary: Set in the same universe as Late and Next Morning.





	

The hotel room's door is still swinging shut heavily when Eames puts his hand on Arthur's shoulder and presses down. "On your knees, pet." Arthur's knees hinge instantly. 

He sits back on his heels as the door finally clicks shut, acutely aware of the image he must have presented to anyone walking past. A man sliding to his knees at another's command. A whimper escapes him. 

Eames turns from farther into the suite they share, hands already pulling his shirt out his trousers, and looks down at him. "What was that, pet?" He doesn't give Arthur a chance to respond, "did you have some objection to the door closing?" 

He backs Arthur up against the wall by the door, releases him, and kicks his knees apart. "Just like that, darling." 

Opens the door and flips the ubiquitous little metal lock doodad to keep it from closing fully. Walks back into the suite. 

Arthur's face is maybe a foot away from the gap of the door, and burning with shame already. Anyone could walk down the hall and see him on his knees in that inch-wide gap providing a view into the room. Anyone could. Suddenly, he can't remember if Dom's room is on this floor. His cock is hard with humiliation and straining in his trousers before he even spots Eames walking back out from the bedroom. Eames, god, shameless Eames, naked, his cock stiff and pointed straight at Arthur. He doesn't say anything, just advances like _of course_ Arthur will obey him, will open his mouth for Eames to fuck it, _of course_ Arthur will keep his hands on his own thighs, _of course_ Arthur will flush even more with every satisfied moan Eames makes, one hand braced on the wall above Arthur. 

Of course Eames will pull out and jack himself until come hits Arthur's face and hair. Of course he'd do all this when anyone could see through that gap in the door, could see the naked god in the hotel room, and the man in the suit, on his knees, worshiping. 

"Well done, pet. You look lovely like that." The approving tone of his voice makes Arthur shudder. 

Eames is so beautiful, naked, post orgasm, as he fits his leg along Arthur's body, sliding against his desperate cock, and turns Arthur's head so that he will make eye contact with anyone coming down the hall. "There," satisfied. "Now, rub one out for me in those pretty trousers." 

Arthur convulses and moans, cheek against Eames' leg, pressed there by the hand on his head. He can't take his eyes off that gap, the slice of hallway, the open-mouthed vision of submission he presents to any stranger who might approach. It's enormous, that gap, widened by the shame coursing through him. His vision swims and he rubs against Eames' shin, his foot, and moans again. His own hands slide around to the sides of his thighs, never lifting off, he doesn't have permission to do that. He moans louder, uncontrollably, rocking against Eames. Oh, God, it feels so good. He feels so exposed, like a raw nerve. Anyone could see. Simply anyone. A hotel employee, another guest. Dom. And know. They'd all know what Eames does to him, how he owns him, puts him on his knees whenever he likes, all in a single instant through the open door. He rubs harder. He wants to come. He wants to please Eames. He always wants to please Eames. 

Eames fingers twist gently and stroke through his hair as he rocks and moans and rocks and moans. "What a good boy you're being for me tonight, Arthur. What a pretty show you make for our neighbors. Now, keep those lovely brown eyes open for me." 

Arthur obeys. He can't not. Eames murmurs encouragement at him, strokes his hair and down his neck, as he rocks, almost there. 

He hears the elevator doors ding and start to open, and Eames says, "oh, that's probably Dom," and the hot strike of shame hits like lightning and Arthur _wails_ as he comes, Eames' hand still holding him securely, and he can hear someone coming down the hall. He sags against Eames, but Eames picks him up under his arms, muscles bunching, and puts him on his feet, back against the door, claiming Arthur's mouth with his tongue until he can't hear anything but the heartbeat in his ears and the moans still coming from deep inside him. 

"There, now," Eames says when they disengage. "Don't you look well-kissed." He leans into Arthur, who feels like he's melting between the door and Eames, body turning to liquid as his cock starts to harden again in the wetness of his slacks. 

Someone knocks and Arthur stiffens, panic rushing through him, but Eames still has them propped against the door, and plunders and hums into his mouth until Arthur relaxes again. 

"Room service!" comes a voice. 

Eames barely moves. "Gives us a sec, mate," he calls back. He looks at Arthur, touches his face. Says nothing. 

"I'll just leave it on the floor, sir." 

"Ta, cheers." Eames answers. Eames' mouth on his is so sweet, now, sweet and gentle. "My good boy." 

"Your good boy." Arthur says back, unbidden, almost faint with adrenaline and arousal and the shame and glory of his submission. 

"That's right." Eames tells him, hands curling around him, warm and secure. "That's right."


End file.
